


Natural Reaction

by cellard00rs



Series: SOS Series [1]
Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Grumpy Old Men, Inappropriate Erections, M/M, One-Sided Attraction, Pre-Slash, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-13
Updated: 2017-07-13
Packaged: 2018-12-01 21:05:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,560
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11494740
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cellard00rs/pseuds/cellard00rs
Summary: Ford has a decidedly unnatural reaction to Stanley





	Natural Reaction

“Stop it. I can literally  _feel_  you smirking.”

“I’m not,” Ford lies as he approaches a shirtless Stan who lies on his belly on his bunk. The Stan O’ War II barely lists, the sea beneath them calm.  The air is fragrant and warm, the evening settling over them like a cozy blanket and Ford debates clicking the interior lights on. Eventually he decides against it. He can see Stan well enough, so he draws up a chair near his bunk and holds up the green bottle, “Are you sure you want to use this? I have some lotions of my own concoction that-”

“No,” Stan stresses, “I ain’t having you use me like some guinea pig for whatever weirdo potions you cooked up like some goddamn wizard! Just…just put the aloe on there. Please.”

The last is said in a rusty, annoyed sort of way, Stan clearly not enjoying the use of that particular word. Ford understands why, but appreciates it none the less. He looks at the wicked sunburn on his brother’s back and tries not to smirk again. He fails spectacularly and it colors his tone, “You know, you wouldn’t be in this mess had you just listened to-”

“Oh god, don’t  _start_. You’re the worst kinda nag and I don’t need to hear it.”

“I…I do not-!”

“Sixer, yer worse than Ma, god rest her soul.”

“Stanley, I do not nag like our mother,” Ford insists waspishly as he spreads aloe all over both of his hands. Now it’s Stan turn to smirk, his arms tightening around the pillow beneath his head, “Sure, sure. Anything ya say,  _Ma_.”

The sound of Ford’s palms meeting Stan’s back is frighteningly loud – almost a smack, but not quite. Still, Stan nearly jumps out of his skin and Ford feels as if he’s re-won the right to gloat, “There. Better?”

The only answer he gets is a grunt and Ford laughs, his palms scoring up and down Stan’s back, spreading the aloe all over the burn. Stan huffs and Ford can just make out the relief on his face. Feeling slightly more charitable at the sight, he murmurs, “At least you had a good day at the beach.”

“Yeah. Gotta admit…kinda missed it. The sand, the sun…even if the sun is the bitch that did this ta me…”

“That or your lack of sunscreen.”

“I put on sunscreen!”

“Well, clearly not enough,” Ford can’t help but scold as he squirts more aloe on to his hands. Stan rolls his eyes, “How the hell was I supposed ta know it wasn’t enough SPF or whatever the fuck. Not to mention I’m like, seventy now…don’t ya reach an age where you just don’t burn?”

“First, you’re not seventy. Nowhere close. Second, yes, you can still get a sunburn. Obviously,” Ford trails one slick fingertip up along his spine just prove his point and Stan…shivers. It’s a natural reaction, of course, but Ford sort of…he sort of… _falters_. Even in the dimly lit cabin, he can see Stan’s skin twitch, the muscles beneath his skin react and it’s…

Ford blinks rapidly and shakes his head to himself.  _What the hell, Stanford_? His thoughts whisper and he doesn’t know how to answer. He really doesn’t. So instead he focuses on clearing his throat and returning to his administrations, aloe-gelled hands gliding up and down the full breadth of Stan’s back.

Neither of them speaks for a while, Ford just administering the lotion until suddenly Stan snorts, mumbling under his breath, “Guess anything can still happen…no matter what yer age…”

“Hmm?” Ford hums and Stan looks at him over one shoulder. His face is pure wickedness and Ford is immediately on alert, “Stanley…”

“Just thinkin’, you said age can’t stop ya from gettin’ a sunburn. It obviously don’t stop other things either. Mean, they may be  _slower_ , but…” he rolls over, just slightly, just enough for Ford to see his front and he’s only wearing boxers, boxers that are, um,  _tighter_. Or rather, boxers that are doing a very poor job of disguising his obvious erection.

Ford eyes widen and Stan busts out laughing, “You should see your face! Christ!”

His face? His face! Ford’s mouth flaps soundlessly and he’s trying to think of the appropriate response, a myriad of emotions tumbling through him even as his eyes. His blasted  _eyes_. They zero in on the sight of Stan’s…

…he’s awfully…thick…

Ford shakes his head violently and drags his vision away from Stan’s arousal. He tries to scrub it from his mind, but it feels like it’s  _burned_  in there, forever imprinted. The sight of dusky blue boxer material stretched, clinging to every tenacious inch and it was so…so  _lewd_. The rich outline…the fullness of…of…

…Ford hasn’t had much sex in his life.

It’s a simple fact, but Ford’s just – he’s not a very sexual person. He has no desire to, well, to stoop that low. Or at least, that was how he thought of it in his youth. There were better things to do than sex, far more exciting things. Like Science! Science was his mistress, his religion, his everything. In lots of ways, it still is. But he was humbled by Weirdmageddon, humbled by his twins bravery and heroism. It’s opened his eyes to many things and well, okay, this…this isn’t something his eyes should be open to.

Or focusing on.

He should react with disgust and dismay and that’s what he does his best to drudge up, “I can go without seeing that, thank you!”

“Aw, come on. It’s a ‘natural reaction’ right?” Stan’s words are a jest, no hidden meaning, no secret artifice. And Ford has no idea how he picked up on his early thought, the one about his shiver, but in complete contrast to that he  _doesn’t_  seem to pick up on his brother’s true discomfort at all and Ford is relieved.

He’s…relieved. Really.

Ford’s treacherous eyes take in another eye full of Stan’s (aroused,  _fuck_ , aroused) privates before he primly pushes him with his hands, “Would you please just-?”

Stan laughs and returns to lying flat, erection hidden back beneath him and Ford does his level best not to think about it. Which, of course, means his mind can focus on little else. He finishes attending to Stan’s back, eventually offering some muttered excuse about needing fresh air as he wanders out to the deck of the ship.

The island of Mykonos glitters like a jewel in the distance. They’re not far from it, anchored just a few leagues out. Ford picked up some weird readings, which led them in this direction. A balmy wind brushes over him, ruffling his gray hair and he rubs at the stubble on his chin. Goddamn it. What happened back in there?

 _Well_ ,  _you got turned on_ , his mind (or perhaps a lower region of his body) offers unhelpfully and he shakes his head to himself, breath leaving him in a ragged exhale. 

As if he needs to catch his breath, as if he wasn’t breathing earlier. But it had felt…suffocating in there. And his mind’s eye keeps replaying the sight of Stan’s boxers, or rather, what was  _beneath_ them. Again, Ford hasn’t had much sex in his life, but what he has had has been…varied.

Alien creatures from other dimensions – male, female, otherwise – it’s a small number. Less than all the fingers on one of his hands and considering he  _has_  an extra finger, that says a lot. And considering their origins (not of this dimension) it’s not as if he hasn’t gone outside what is recognized as ‘the norm’. But incest? That’s…

He runs a hand through his hair and thinks about how nice it’d be to smoke, which is hilarious, considering he’s never had a cigarette in his life. He bets Stan has one of his cigars lying around, but, again – not something Ford’s ever tried, nor does he really want to try. He just…he wants  _release_. Something to save him from this… _this_. Whatever it is.

 _Maybe it IS just a natural reaction_ , his thoughts offer weakly, thinking of Stan’s last comment, but he knows, he  _knows_  that’s not true. His reaction was anything but natural. It was…

…and he’s  _still_ curious about. Damn the scientist in him! Damn his irrepressible, irresponsible, inquisitive side! Isn’t this what led to his summoning Bill in the first place? He had read clear warnings NOT to summon the demon and yet…

And now, here he is, thinking of summoning a demon of an entirely different sort. Ford almost startles when Stan approaches him. Thankfully his brother is fully dressed now, pants over boxers (blue) and a loose tank over his chest. 

He looks at the same view as Ford and, untroubled, grins, “Hey, thinkin’ about hittin’ the land? Mean, know we’ve got your boogey-whatever to hunt, but tonight we could just hit a coupla clubs.”

“Clubs?” Ford asks uncertainly and Stan nudges him, “Yeah. After all, you promised me a high probability of babes and I have had yet to see you deliver.”

Ford thinks of Stan with women and…

No. NO. This is  _good_. This will get him over all this sudden…weirdness.

He claps his brother’s shoulder gingerly, “Sounds good to me.”

**Author's Note:**

> Summer of Stancest Week 1-2, July 1st – July 14th: Mykonos! Thought I’d miss it, didn’t ya??? Also, I’m doing something VERY experimental. I’m going to link ALL of the prompts into one cohesive storyline. So, y’know. Here’s the first part.


End file.
